


Tommy Knows: "Vendetta"

by ThomE_Gemcity_06



Series: Eloquence of a Secret [8]
Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon-divergence, Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, Drama, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Episode: s1e08 - “Vendetta", Friendship, Gen, Light Tommy!Whump, Secrets, Tommy Knows!, relationship drama
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-02
Updated: 2017-06-02
Packaged: 2018-11-08 05:07:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,967
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11074674
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThomE_Gemcity_06/pseuds/ThomE_Gemcity_06
Summary: When Oliver meets someone he deems his equal, Tommy finds himself losing place within the Hood dynamic.





	Tommy Knows: "Vendetta"

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own Arrow, its episodes or its characters.   
> Tag: Season 1, Episode 8 - "Vendetta"

**aRRoW**

"Diggle?" Tommy answered his cell phone in surprise.

" _Hey, Merlyn_." Diggle said. " _Can you talk_?" It wasn't a question of the time, but of the surrounding audience.

Tommy looked around his apartment and the pile of flat cardboard boxes. He didn't have the money to hire packers; Laurel had at least gotten him the boxes. "Yeah."

" _I don't think you should come to the lair for a while_." Diggle told him.

"What? Why?" he felt anxiety kick in. "Did something happen? Is Oliver okay?" he demanded, getting to his feet and ready to head over right that minute. "I'll co--"

" _Physically, he could win the Olympics_." That eased Tommy somewhat, but that left the question of-- " _But, I don't know... it's like he's caught in her spider web_."

"Her?" Tommy repeated in confusion. His first thought had been of Laurel (it always was when a nameless _her_ was mentioned), but then someone else occurred to him. "Wait—you don't mean Bertinelli's daughter, do you?"

" _The very one_."

"I don't understand," the former scion admitted. "Helena nearly killed Moira. He told me that she was the one that killed those guys. I asked him what he was going to do—he said he was going to take care of it. I kind of assumed--"

" _He was going to make a dead-man out of her_?" Diggle made a humourless sound at the other end of the line. " _Yeah. Apparently a few things have gone down this last week that he'd neglected to tell you, Merlyn_."

"Then _you_ tell me, Diggle." Tommy said firmly.

" _Helena was going after her father's organization because it turns out that she was gathering evidence on him to turn into the FBI. Her father found the laptop and assumed it was her fiancée, so he had the guy killed. Helena found out the truth and has been going on a revenge crusade_."

"That's one reason for it." Tommy noted. "Something tells me I'm not going to like what you say next much."

" _You'd be right_." Diggle agreed. " _He sympathizes with her, thinks he can help her. Their situations have a common denominator, after all. He met with her the other night and Bertinelli's second picked them up, he found out that Helena was the killer after the fight at the restaurant_." He sighed. He dropped the bomb: " ** _Oliver revealed his Hood-identity_** _Tommy_."

"What?!" Tommy cried out. "She knows Ollie is the"—his voice automatically hushed—"Hood? Diggle, that--!"

" _Keep your head, Merlyn_!" Diggle commanded him in a cool voice.

"You're right, you're right." Tommy took some deep breaths and reasoned, "Even if she know' he's the Hood, what can she really do? She doesn't have any proof. It's not like she can reveal Oliver without outing herself as a killer. She doesn't have the location of the lair." He let out a relieved breath and slumped against the wall. "She doesn't know about us. So there's nothing to worry about." There was silence on the other end. "Diggle? Oliver slept with her, didn't he?" Tommy realized. "That stupid son of a bitch!"

" _Tommy_ \--"

"Oh, shit! You just called me by my first name, you never do that. This must be bad. What aren't you telling me, Diggle?" his mind raced as he tried to think, and dread filled him. "You don't want me to come by the lair because-- because she _knows_? Diggle, how-- how could she know?"

" _Because Oliver took her there_."

"Because they had sex and it's been a while for Oliver and he let it slip." Tommy interpreted. "It happens to the best of us."

" _Merlyn_ ," Diggle growled. " _This was a mistake, yes. But Oliver is not seeing it that way. He's got it in his head that he can help her, make her see the 'light'. That there's a right way to have her crusade; with the right weapons, without hurting innocents. He_ \--"

"You mean, he's training her." Tommy was still, his voice level. Something welled in his chest that put a sour taste in his throat. After everything he had offered, it had been deny, deny, deny. And here his best-friend was, embracing this killer. "Just finish it, Diggle." He told the silent man. "Don't try and spare me now."

" _He took her out on a name."_

Tommy slowly slid down the wall until he was on the floor. It hurt, and he didn't want to see why.

The truth was, they'd both learned of Oliver's secret identity in the same way. They'd both been kidnapped, and Oliver had revealed his secret to save them. The only _key_ difference between them, was that Oliver believed Tommy unconscious for the drugs and had no intention of him ever finding out the truth. But Oliver had made the very conscious decision to reveal himself to Helena who had been very aware.

So, she won, hadn't she? Tommy had to wheedle and pick the information out of Oliver in bits and pieces; but Oliver gravitated towards her, shared openly. Oliver never offered to train him; Oliver would never take him out in the field to cross a name off the list. Tommy was his best-friend since before even Thea had been born; he'd met Helena a week ago on a mission.

He swallowed thickly and licked his lips. "Okay. Thanks for telling me, Diggle. I won't come by the lair." He hung up before he could hear the pity in the bodyguard's next words; he was already feeling enough self-pity. He knew a kick in the ass out the door when he felt one—his father had already given him one, after all.

**X**

Tommy had convinced Laurel of a make-up date with reservations to the new restaurant Table Salt on its Opening Night. But the maître d' was being stubborn (i.e. a bitch) about seating them on the busy night. His name had gotten him the reservation, but it was cash that always greased the pace. Money that he couldn't spar. And the last thing he expected was to see Oliver there—with Helena Bertinelli as his date. It never even registered to him that it might be her, until Oliver introduced her as Helena.

He wanted to punch Oliver so hard, grab Laurel, and get the hell out of there. But if he did that, people would think he'd lost his mind—he thought it would be worth it if he could get Laurel away from this chick. What the hell was Oliver thinking?

He left the invitation of joining the couple up to Laurel, praying that she would not be her usual stubborn self and decline; but typical Laurel agreed.

If Tommy didn't know the truth, he would have believed it was a good double-date. But he knew the truth on all three-sides. And he couldn't watch it any more; Oliver and Laurel, and Helena across from him.

He realized truths he'd always known but wanted to live in the denial of green grass in his field.

"I'm not feeling too good," Tommy spoke suddenly, standing. "I'm going to step outside."

"Wait, Tommy!" Laurel quickly blurted out pleasantries to the couple before going after Tommy. "Tommy? Are you alright, was it something you ate? Definitely getting a bad review."

_I wish,_ Tommy thought. "No, Laurel, the food was great." He exhaled and closed his briefly as if he could shield himself from imminent heartbreak. "Laurel, we need to talk..."

**X**

Tommy found Oliver early the next morning, confronting the man in the empty mansion. He'd spent a restless night in his apartment, processing his break-up with Laurel and working on friendship between them instead, and thinking about where his friendship with Oliver stood a present, both in public view and private. It was almost Christmas, what better time to have pre-mid-life crises revelations.

"Oliver, what the hell do you think you're doing? How could you bring that woman anywhere near Laurel?" he forewent with greetings, slamming the door behind him.

Oliver blinked at him in surprise, then his friend's accusations registered. He instantly went on defence. "Hey, it's not like I knew the two of you would be there!"

"You asked us to _join_ you!" he scoffed and shook his head.

"I didn't think you'd agree."

"It's Laurel!" Tommy said, as if that explained it. And it most certainly did. "What are you doing with her anyways? She's a killer--"

Oliver's face went steel, "Then so am I."

"You are nothing like her, Oliver." Tommy declined Oliver's association without hesitation. "Do you hear yourself? She's out for revenge—death. She wants her father to suffer. And she'll kill anyone who gets in her way. Innocent people like your mom! Would you be defending her like this if she'd killed Moira instead of just injuring her? What is wrong with you right now? Where is your head?"

"You can't understand, Tommy! You or Diggle. The things I've been through—she understands. She knows--"

"Oh," Tommy interrupted sarcastically. "She was ship-wrecked on a island crawling with bad guys, too?"

"Not literally." He frowned. "But emotionally, she understands. Her father murdered the love of her life. He started her on this path. And Robert started me on mine. I've killed in his name. He had blood on his hands then he took mine, and now I have blood on my own."

"The love of her life?" Tommy repeated, sitting on the edge of the blond’s bed. He quirked a brow. "Like the love of your life--"

"What do you expect me to say?" Oliver growled in frustration, throwing his hands up. "That I still love Laurel? Is that what you're after?"

"Only if it's true." He replied evenly, curious. "Is it?"

Oliver paced. "I don't know! Yes! Of course! I'll always love her. Nothing will ever change that. She's Laurel. But she's Laurel. I cheated on her, treated her like crap. I killed her sister. What am I supposed to do with that? I can't _talk_ to her. But with Helena, I can talk to her and she understands. She sees me, this other me and she isn't  frightened. I don't have to lie or pretend with her. It’s out in the open. There's no weight on my chest."

"So you run into the arms of a killer, because she understands what you're feeling?" Tommy summarized. "Oliver, you're forced to keep your family at arms length, never allowed to reveal this important piece of to them for fear of putting them in danger or rejection. You're lonely, that understandable. And Helena's may be the first person you thought could understand... but _you_ have to understand, Oliver, that  the danger you're so worried about putting everyone in—well it's here. And it's in the form of that dangerous woman."

"You're wrong about her," Oliver denied, vibrating. "You have no idea what you're taking about. Mind your own self, Tommy! Look at your own yard before you peer through the hedges." And he slammed door behind him.

Tommy heaved a heavy sigh. There was no point in running after the man, the former scion would never catch him. Hopefully, Oliver would realize the mistake he was making before it was too late and the people he loved got hurt; he'd never forgive himself.

**X**

Tommy was sick of being shunned out. He'd been texting and calling Oliver all night, even Diggle, but had been getting no response. He was starting to get pissed. And was urged into action of going to the lair after Breaking News scrolled across the TV screen with mention of the Bertinelli name.

He called out as he came down the stairs, but the factory basement was dark but for the moonlight through the blocked windows and no vigilante and bodyguard present. He came to the decision of staying, figuring that Oliver and Diggle were out busy dealing with what he saw on the news, and this was the first place they'd be when they were done.

He started to shed his coat when he noticed a medium-sized, mahogany polished hinge-box on the table that he'd never seen before. Curious, he approached and opened the lid. Sitting nestled in the silk cushion was what looked like a mini-crossbow. No way was this Oliver’s. Tommy carefully picked the unloaded weapon in hand. He must have gotten it for--

"I believe that's mine." A voice said behind him.

Tommy jumped with an exclaim, hot-potatoing the crossbow briefly before he managed to clasp it to his chest with both hands. He turned, heart-racing, to watch Helena step from the gloom. "H-Helena."

"Tommy, right? Oliver's best-friend. Tommy Merlyn." She rested her hand up on the pillar beside her. "He told you his secret, huh?"

She slowly approached. He took an instinctive step back from the dangerous woman, but it gave no distance between them and instead put his ass against the edge of the table.

A smirked danced across her lips. "Does he take you out there, to cross names off his little list?"

"That's none of your business."

"Or are you just his pet?" she mused. "Come running when he calls. Even come crawling back after he's kicked you?" she suggested, stopping in front of him.

Tommy was silent. Not looking from his eyes, she slowly reached forward like toward a skittish animal and laid it on the crossbow in his arms. Tommy tightened his hold.

"Now, pet," she admonished. "Ollie gave this to me as a gift. Be a good boy and hand it over without fuss."

"You're not getting it," he refused, probably foolishly. "Oliver thought you were a kindred spirit, he trusted you. But you're just a cold-blooded killer. You nearly killed his mom in your stupid crusade! You're nothing like him. _Nothing_."

"Oh, pet," she tsked with underlying fury. Her other hand came down gently on his shoulder, and he flinched anyway, before she caressed down his arm. Her grip was like a vice at his elbow. "You're being a very bad boy."

There was a yank and a twist, and then Tommy's world was just a scary fast blur as Helen flipped him over the table. Its contents crashed around him as he slammed into the concrete—and the back of his head cracked against the ground.

His conscious fluttered briefly like a butterfly's wings as he was aware of Helena crouching beside him. "Till next time, pet." And he out.

**...**

"Tommy! Hey, Tommy!" Oliver called him awake worriedly.

Tommy groaned and cracked his eyes open to see a blurry Hooded-up Oliver crouching beside him and Diggle standing behind his shoulder. "Oliver?"

"Yeah. Can you sit up?" with a hand on his arm, and one at the back of his shoulder, Oliver helped him.

Tommy moaned. "Feels like a hangover without all the fun beforehand."

Next Oliver hefted him up to his feet and Tommy sat heavily into the chair Diggle dragged over as he got a brief spell of dizziness. "Buddy?"

"I'm okay." Tommy promised as he took an ice pack Diggle gave him.

"Look's like its just a bump. You might have a mild concussion. You should be fine." Diggle told him, leaning back against the edge of the table.

"That crazy chick flipped me over a table," Tommy remarked. "How is that even possible?"

"You don't pose much of a challenge," Diggle noted. "Didn’t I tell you not to come by the lair for a while?"

"Yeah, well, I saw the news and I got worried when no one answered my calls. So I made the decision to wait for you. But she was here instead. She wanted tthe crossbow and I tried to stop her, which was--"

"Stupid?" Diggle supplied.

"Yes." He ground out.

"I'm sorry, Tommy." Oliver said quietly.

Tommy looked at him in surprise. "What are you talking about?"

Oliver looked between the two men contritely. "I should have listened to both you and Dig about her. I didn't want to see it. I wanted to believe I could help her. And you got hurt because of it."

"You're being an idiot right now, is what you are." Tommy told him. "You heard Diggle and his excellent medical opinion; I'm going to be fine—probably."

"Tommy, that's not funny!" Oliver growled.

"You're _human_ , Oliver." Tommy told him decisively. "You have a heart. What you do isn't very easy. You're going to make mistakes just like the rest of us mere mortals. You have so much on your plate, your focus is torn in to many directions and that's why I have made the evacuative decision—I want to run your club."

"What?" Oliver was taken aback by the 180.

"Let me run your club." Tommy said. "I've been thinking about this, Oliver. I can't help you like Dig out in the field, can't talk strategy with you. But I can do this, that’s what those framed pieces of paper say, anyway. I mean, pay me, but... let me run the club. Then you can focus on your Hood-business and I'll cultivate the nightclub business. Let me maintain your beard."

Oliver was silent as he stared at his best-friend.

"I think it's a good idea, Oliver." Diggle encouraged.

Oliver finally gave a slow nod. "Okay, Tommy. You're on," he held out his hand to his best-friend.

Tommy gave him a firm shake with the hand not holding the icepack to the back of his head. "I hope there are health benefits," he joked.

Oliver gave his head a little shake, but a small smile played at the corner of his mouth. "That concussion didn't make you funnier,"

"Really? I thought it was pretty good, considering."

"You're still planning on staying at the mansion, right?" Oliver asked.

"If the offer is still on the table."

"Always, Tommy." He smiled. "Always."

f

**aRROW**

 

**Author's Note:**

> Told you I had some plans for this episode, and some light Tommy whump, too. Your thoughts on breaking Tommy and Laurel up?


End file.
